Help
by solice-in-silence
Summary: Cole and Hawke speak on love, friendship and Anders.


She felt the presence behind her and turned.

The cold sunlight would bleach anyone, but where she could see this boy's skin it was paler than most. The hat shaded most of his face, and it was the hat that gave him away - she had listened well to Varric's tales. After all - she'd hate to meet the Seeker unprepared.

"Cole"

"Yes"

"Come looking for hurts to heal? My troubles are too large to be soothed by your words I think" she pointed out, taking a seat, pushing back her hair with a gesture that spoke of exhaustion.

"I go where I can help".

"I think it is not me you could most help, and the one who could use you, he is not here".

"No - but you are so close to him...I can almost feel him through you. The one Varric calls Blondie. Brooding, thoughtful, tired. Angry. He knew what he did would hurt, but did it anyway. He thought it had to be done. Had to be a chance. Dark, depressed, divided".

"His name is Anders".

"So many know of him, he appears in many thoughts. He is a second part of you and yet - so many other things. Apostate, terrorist, monster, abomination, rebel, murderer. Trouble and troubled. Fear and hatred. Hunted. He knew this, he knew what would happen, but did it anyway. Festering guilt and doubt".

Hawke sighed, looking away and across the mountains for a moment before turning away, closing her eyes. Don't think of where he is, don't let Cole know, don't -

"I won't tell them. Varric wouldn't want me too".

A laugh, but the sound wasn't humorous. Bitter and disbelieving.

"Varric? He hates Anders. He'd have him dragged here and thrown at Seeker Petaghast's feet for justice, dragged before the Inquisitor's throne for Judgement".

"Not for the Chantry. Not for the explosion. For you. But not for you, he won't for you, at the same time. Confused. Maker, when was the last time I saw her smile? Tired, old now, old like she was't before, that's Blondie's doing. Should've stuck with Broody, he'd have crossed burning coals for her. Blondie used her love to hide his plan, used her, used up her light...Varric wants to hurt him like he hurt you, but torn, tortured - can't betray her like he did, can't lie to her like he did. Can't split them, can't punish him without punishing her, can't punish her".

There was a lump in her throat at his words and she lowered her head, closed her eyes. Anders had hurt so many more than other people knew. It wasn't just the war and it's causalities, or those quite literally caught in the first blast. Her friends - their friends. They might fight by her side still when called, but she knew that there was a resentment throbbing beneath it. If she'd turned from him their support would be wholehearted - but nobody understood why she had stayed with him, because of it more than in spite of it.

"Varric's a good friend to me. Better than I deserve".

"He doesn't think so. Hawke, Champion, Hero, Friend. All of those things, in gold, written on him as much as his humour. You are part of him - he is part of you. Loyal still, loved still. He blames himself too, the expedition needed a Warden and then it led to the Red Lyrium, his role, his part, twisting, shaping, bringing things together, if not for him the story would be different. The storyteller but part of the story. Can't know how it would have been if it had all been different. He can't hate you so he hates himself".

"Aren't you supposed to be helping?"

"Sorry".

It was unfair of her to snap. All he did was voice what Varric felt...and what, in truth, she suspected. That Varric blamed himself for his part as much as he did her for the role she had played. That he hated Anders, but never voiced it, because of how she felt for him. That much as he wanted to see justice dealt to Justice, he couldn't - his loyalty to his friend weighing him down just as her love weighed her down.

"Passion, fire, hot, blood alive and singing, stomach melting. Expanding like your heart spreads. All-encompassing. You think it's bad but how can love be bad?"

"Because I place it too high" she explained. "Nothing - what he did, it didn't change how I felt. I was angry but I loved him still. Betrayed but loved him still - hurt, but still" she shrugged, the gesture sad. She had always known sacrifice was apart of love, just from looking at her own parents. As an apostate mage, she had always known it would be difficult whoever she had chosen to love. Not that it had felt like a choice in the end, she'd fallen for Anders like a stone. And even she - she, the daughter of an apostate and a runaway noble who'd eloped because they loved each other so much they'd given up their lives to share a new one together - even she worried that the way she cared for Anders was wrong and selfish, that she prized him higher than anything else in her life. He said some thing mattered more than the two of them - Hawke, in her heart, knew she couldn't stand by that idea. That, to her, he would always be her first priority. Sometimes she despised herself for her weakness - but she couldn't change how she felt.

"People shouldn't love so much, shouldn't forget everything else. He hurt people because of me - and I didn't stop him. I didn't know but I suspected and I didn't stop him. I love him - so much". The last words choked her.

"It's bigger than how other peoples are, obsession, he is not here but he colours everything, he is everything, everything comes back to him. Always in your mind, Anders, Anders, what would he say, how will I tell him, will he laugh, make him laugh, find something for him, he is here with you, part of you. Protect him, touch him, defend him. I can almost feel him through you, so close, entwined. Whispers in the night and soft laughter, shaking hands. Amber eyes then glowing blue. Heavy, hurting, suffocating. You want him different and hate yourself for that thought and love him more to fix it."

"Oh Kid" she murmured, shaking her head. "Love rarely makes sense. But don't start looking at it by looking at me. You'll never figure it out".

"Right and wrong which is it. The big picture but the details, can't forget the details, how many lives, every pain you see becomes your pain, your fault, and still behind it you think he was right. People hurt now but people were hurting before, they care now because it's them hurting, them suffering, they prefer the suffering locked away, pretend it's not happening, pretend it's fine but it wasn't fine, there are always victims but new victims now, different victims. You want to help but just moved the hurts. I wanted to help. I killed the mages, I made their pain stop. I was wrong. He moved their pain to everyone. Still wrong. It didn't help, but you hope it will change. One day, one day. Children, blue and gold, amber and black, yours, his, both, a future. One day. Ten years, a hundred years - together".

"Enough!" Then more softly, hating herself for rebuking this gentle soul. "Enough".

"I want to help".

"You can't help me. I know what I have done. I love a fugitive, I love a man they call a monster, there's blood on our hands and I still choose him. They call him a monster but I agree with what he did despite all the people it hurt, and I choose him. I know I am selfish but I still. Choose. Him. I will always choose him. I'd rather be with him then apart because the pain of loving him is still better than the pain would be if I lost him. There's no right answer here. I'd rather die then be without him - be without the way I feel for him. Nothing could be worse - so I endure. Some wounds cannot be healed Cole".

She walked away, leaving him there confused. Leaving him before he did help because the idea he would take this from her...that was worse then anything.

If he made her forget...that would be far worse.


End file.
